


Delicious Fusion

by Spunkybob5



Series: A Night of Free Will [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kinda, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:38:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6650665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spunkybob5/pseuds/Spunkybob5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your first time with Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delicious Fusion

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled with Castiel's power level here. I decided on half-mast Castiel; ie, he's an angel, but not at full power, like in Season 5 when he's falling or Season 11 with half his Grace gone.

I first saw him on a Tuesday.

I was late getting my lunch, which was ok, because by two in the afternoon the food trucks were restocking for dinner, and anything I ordered was freshly made. I’m a sucker for a food truck. I love the cuisine fusions in particular. Two things that have seemingly nothing in common making delicious music on my palate? Yes, please.

As I waited for my sushi slider, I let my gaze wander. The park looked as it always did. There were a few groups of college kids lounging on the grass or playing ultimate Frisbee. Shrieks of delight echoed from the playground about a hundred yards away. A dozen or so older gentlemen played checkers. Rollerbladers and cyclists whizzed by. Just a typical day.

Except for him.

Sitting on the bench at the edge of the food truck circle was a man in a trench coat. His posture was stiff, reminding me of Forrest Gump. The similarities ended there, though. This man’s expression was sharp, alert. He wasn’t waiting for anything, just watching the people around him, a gentle, pleasant expression on his face.

Now, I’m a little woman in a big city. I’m very aware of stranger danger. But I couldn’t help myself. Once I got my food, I walked over and sat next to the man in the trench. He acknowledged me with a nod of his head, his posture and expression unchanging. Up close, dude was gorgeous – square jaw with just a bit of scruff, just fucked dark hair, and eyes so blue they put the summer sky to shame.

As pretty as he was, I’m not great at faces. Or names. I typically remember people based on context (“You remember Sally, from the party?”) or the way they feel. Their energy. And this guy’s energy?

_Holy shit._

Sitting next to him was like…being assaulted with peace. It radiated off him as if peace was a tidal wave and I was a tiny tropical island. It was addictive, unrelenting, all-consuming.

I knew I could never get enough.

But I’m also a chicken, so I ate my meal quietly. When I stood to leave, I managed to squeak, “Have a nice afternoon!”

The man blinked, “You as well.”

 _Dear Lord, his voice._ I spent the rest of the day wondering how that deep voice would sound moaning my name.

***

Fridays I get off early, and I practically skipped over to the food trucks. Today I opted for a lobster dog. I didn’t have to rush back to work, so might as well get something a little messy.

I regretted that decision the moment I saw trench coat was back. Same bench, same posture, same outfit, same gentle expression.

Same level of gorgeous.

I took my food and walked over the bench. Trench coat nodded at me again, and this time I found the courage to smile back.

“Hi,” I said. (I know – I’m awesome at pick-up lines.)

He blinked, as though surprised to be acknowledged, “Hello.”

I sat down and dug in. It was seriously good. So good, in fact, that it took me a minute to realize trench coat was watching me.

“Are you enjoying your meal?” he asked.

My first instinct was that he was mocking me. His serious expression told me he was completely sincere. I swallowed and scrubbed my face with the napkin, “Yes. It’s excellent.” I swallowed again, “What did you have for lunch?”

“I do not req – I’m not hungry,” he answered carefully.

“Really? The food trucks smell amazing, and that still didn’t whet your appetite?”

“Food holds very little interest for me, I’m afraid.”

“Well! You’ve clearly never had the right food.” I broke off a bite of lobster dog and offered it to him, “Try this.”

Hesitantly, he took the offered food. He examined it closely, even sniffing it, before popping the bite in his mouth. His eyes widened, “That is quite tasty.”

“Told ya,” Smiling, I introduced myself.

“I’m Castiel. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

***

We met like that, every Tuesday and Friday, for the next several weeks. Tuesdays I always had to cut things short and return to work, but Fridays we sat for hours, chatting about all kinds of things. Castiel was well-educated and articulate, and I enjoyed his company. And the more time I spent with him, the easier it was to carry the peace he offered into the rest of my week.

The fifth Friday, Castiel was late.

I sat down on the bench, trying to swallow my disappointment with a bite of my tacone. It didn’t have any flavor today. I sighed, holding my lunch, and looked around. And there he was, striding across the park towards me. It occurred to me, that though I’d known Castiel for a month, I’d never seen him move.

I had clearly been missing out.

Power radiated from him. His movements were controlled, like a panther moving through the jungle. Turns out the gentle man who sat next to me, eating my food and exuding peace, was a warrior.

And damned if he wasn’t the sexiest fusion I’d ever seen.

“Hello,” he said, not even a little out of breath. “I apologize for my tardiness. What did you select for lunch today?”

I offered him a bite of my tacone, and we ate together, talking about nothing in particular.

After a few moments of companionable silence, Castiel cleared his throat, “I have something of import I wish to discuss with you.”

I frowned, “Yes?”

“It has been pointed out to me that my behavior towards you could be construed as rude.”

“Rude? How?”

“I have been eating your food for five weeks now and offered you nothing in return. For that I apologize,” His eyes met mine. “According to Dean and Sam, taking you to dinner would be the best way to make amends.”

Before I could organize my thoughts enough to answer, Castiel continued.

“I have also been advised that it would not be unreasonable for you to expect sexual relations at the conclusion of the evening. I want you to know I would not be opposed to that.”

_Okaaaayyyyyyyy. Weirdest way to be asked out ever, but I’ll take it._

“Castiel, first, I don’t think you’ve been rude. Second, I would love to go to dinner with you,” I finally choked out. “But that’s all I’m agreeing to right now, okay?”

“All right,” Castiel nodded.

***

After several emoticon-laden texts, Castiel and I chose a restaurant and agreed to meet the following evening.

I will admit I took a lot more time than I usually do getting ready for this date. I’d steered Castiel towards a restaurant that was a little fancy. Not because I like expensive food – I mean, I do, but who doesn’t? – but because I wanted to be able to wear THE dress. You ladies know. The dress that makes you feel like sex on a stick. I added my Fuck Me Heels, because why not? I really hadn’t decided about having sex with him, but at least I looked freaking amazing.

He was already there when I walked in. Like a gentleman, he stood when he saw me, and I was able to get a good look at him. Instead of his standard suit and trench coat, he wore a jade green shirt, with the sleeves rolled halfway up his muscular forearms. The top three buttons were undone, giving me a delicious glimpse of skin. Dark brown pants wrapped around his ass like a damn gift.

Yeah, I’m totally going to sleep with him.

“You look beautiful,” Castiel said, pulling out my chair.

The date proceeded as dates do. I don’t remember much of it, to be honest. I was distracted by how incredibly gorgeous and sweet and smart my date was. By the end of the night, I was more than ready to get this dessert of a man home.

Unfortunately, he wanted actual dessert. We sipped coffee, mostly just staring at each other as we waited for Castiel’s eclairs to arrive at the table. After what seemed like forever, the waitress delivered the pastries. Castiel took a bite – and _dear god, there is pastry cream on his lower lip_. I watched, trying not to pant, as he licked his plump lips.

“This is delicious,” he said, interrupting my completely inappropriate train of thought. “Try a bite.”

Castiel offered a piece of éclair to me, just as I have done for him with a dozen other foods. But instead of taking it from him with my fingers, I leaned forward, licked my lips, and opened my mouth. Castiel blinked, then reached out, placing the pastry on my tongue. Before he could pull away, I closed my lips around his elegant fingers, sucking them clean of the pastry cream.

Castiel’s eyes widened. I finished quickly – it’s a public restaurant, after all – and watched him swallow. He stared at me for a moment before finding his voice, “Check, please!”

***

We were maybe half a block from the restaurant when Castiel pushed me against the building, his hands cradling my head. He stared into my eyes, looking for consent. Which he found easily.

Then he kissed me.

And when I say he kissed me, I mean he ravished my mouth. Most first kisses start slowly and deepen. Apparently no one told Castiel, because he went for broke. His tongue swept over my lips, and when they parted, he slid deeper. He wasn’t purely primal, but he wasn’t gentle, either. The kiss was assertive and bold. And it completely stole my breath away.

Castiel pulled away. I’m sure he could feel my chest heaving against his. He dropped a kiss to my neck and growled into my ear, “Apartment. Now.”

I only live two blocks from the restaurant, but it took for-freakin’-ever to get there, mostly because Castiel seems to have no self-restraint. To be fair, I wasn’t working too hard at stopping him. By the time we tumbled into my apartment, I could feel no less than three hickies blooming on my neck. My panties were soaked. My body tingled everywhere he touched me.

All I wanted was more.

I had barely shut the door before Castiel had me pinned against it, kissing me, hands roaming over my body, sliding under my skirt and up my thighs. I felt I was being claimed with every touch.

Castiel let out a frustrated groan and I found myself spun around. The way he manhandled me – I definitely whimpered, and not out of fear. I heard the zipper to my dress being lowered, and I sobbed with pleasure as Castiel nibbled his way down my spine, following the trail of the zipper. The nips paused at my bra, but only for the moment it took him to unclasp it. Then his mouth continued its trek downwards, ending with a harder bite on the crest of my ass.

I cried out, but the sound was swallowed as Castiel spun me back around and latched his mouth to mine. His large, strong hands pushed my dress and bra to the floor, leaving me in just my panties and heels. I’m not sure he even noticed, though, because he was lifting me up, hands on my hips, back against the front door, tongue flicking down my body. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, clinging tightly, trying to catch my breath.

“Castiel,” I finally gasped. It sounded like a prayer.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t stop.

I whimpered again, feeling his hands slide under my ass to give himself better leverage. “The – ah! The bedroom is – _holy shit_ ,” I cried. “The bedroom is just down the hall.”

Castiel stopped, looking me in the eye. Very slowly, his hand slid over the soft skin of my ass. Slowly, slowly, he slipped a single digit inside me. I bucked, trying to fuck myself on his finger, but I had no leverage, no way to pleasure myself. I was completely at his mercy.

“Are you saying,” he asked, his face betraying nothing, “that you don’t want me to fuck you senseless right here in the hallway?”

“Ah! Castiel, _please_ ,” I sobbed. “You can fuck me anywhere you want.”

He leaned forward, kissing me again, more gently this time. “Where is your bedroom, beloved?”

Somehow I managed to point to the correct room. I kicked off my shoes as he carried my down the hall. He plopped me down on the bed, taking his first real look at mostly-naked me. I waited, letting him look. I could see the wet spot I had left behind on his pants – right over where his cock strained against the fabric. It was nice to know he was as affected as I was.

“You are exquisite. A work of art,” Castiel leaned over me, hooking his fingers on the waistband of my skimpy panties and sliding them down my legs. He stretched himself over me then, his touch gentler, kisses sweeter.

As much as I loved that jade shirt on him, it was Castiel’s turn to get naked. I unbuttoned it slowly, kissing my way down his muscular chest and toned abs. He smelled of the grass after the rain and tasted like sweat and cinnamon. I let my mouth touch every inch of him I could. When my lips teased his nipples, he growled with pleasure.

Finally, he lifted himself off me. He stood, removing his pants and boxers in one swift movement. I looked at him hungrily. _He’s so gorgeous._ Castiel paused, letting me examine him as I’d done for him. His muscled torso narrowed into sharp hips and strong thighs. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him anywhere – all muscle and sinew and bone.

I could spend hours worshiping that body.

Then Castiel was climbing back up the bed, his naked skin brushing against me, and I forgot how to breathe. My body hummed where he touched me, as though lit with an electricity I had never experienced. He laid on his side, stretched out next to me, his hand sweeping idly down the curves of my body. He watched my reactions to his touch, almost clinically. I might have thought the whole thing was an experiment to him, if not for the rock hard, leaking cock pressed against my thigh.

I rocked my leg gently, offering him friction. Castiel hissed, closing his eyes against the pleasure. Then I was on my back, and he was on top of me, his breath hot in my ear.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he growled, and I damn near came right then.

“Yes, please,” I gasped. “Condoms in the nightstand.”

It only took a moment before his covered cock nudged at my entrance. He teased me, sliding it against my slick hole, then up, against my clit, causing me to let out a sob and beg in an undignified manner.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, please yes, please Castiel, I want you,” I was definitely babbling now.

One hard thrust and Castiel was buried inside me.

My back arched and I cried out. Ordinarily, a cock that large thrusting into me with so little prep would have hurt. But with Castiel, I felt only pleasure. And that buzzing tingle was now not just on my skin. It was inside me, and it felt _incredible._

Castiel began to thrust, picking up speed. He fucked like he kissed – it wasn’t gentle, but he was definitely still in control of his every stroke. He seemed to know exactly how much intensity I could take.

I writhed beneath him. It all was so good, but my climax was just out of reach. My hand strayed downwards, trying to take myself over the edge.

Castiel stopped suddenly, pinning my hands above my head. “No,” he ground out. “Not yet.”

I whimpered, eyes wide. His power had been exciting at the door. Now it damn near tipped me over the edge.

Castiel resumed his rhythm, and my orgasm stayed just beyond my reach. I was begging for release, body arching with every stroke, reaching, reaching…

Castiel leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear, “ _Now_.” On the word, he rolled my clit between his fingertips.

I exploded.

Castiel cried out, too, his body going taut above mine. A white light seemed to fill the room, crackling with power, blinding me.

***

I woke up sometime in the middle of the night, wrapped up in Castiel’s arms.

“You are awake,” he smiled at me. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing,” I licked my lips. “Like I’m filled with light.”

Castiel handed me a glass of water. I drank it, then snuggled back against his chest.

“How do you feel?” I asked

“Content,” I felt a kiss on the top of my head. “Sleep, beloved. I will watch over you.”

I smiled into his skin, “Like you’re my guardian angel or something.”

I felt his arms tighten, “Or something.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story sort of ended up with a sequel. I'm not sure how to link other stories (seriously, I need a tutorial), but Say Nice Things to Me is in my works lost and offers more Castiel porn.


End file.
